I Have a Question?
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Hermione and Ron were just one the facts of life. Their arguing was another fact.


_**First off, happy (late) birthday to Empress Empoleon, who turned another year older on April 24**__**th**__**. This is my gift to you. (holds out shyly)**_

_**Secondly, this was also written for the lolsotrue challenge by lame lame and lamer. **_

_**Lastly, this was written for the 'HP Potions Competition' by Black Boxed for the category **__**Alihotsy Draughty**__** –**__**Write about someone who is overly dramatic and hysterical**__**. **_

….

They comforted each other, when there was no one else. They stood by each other when there was no point in standing at all. They held hands, and smiled at each other, and got into arguments for petty reasons. He was Ron and she was Hermione-they were _together_, and it had simply just become one of those things in life that wasn't questioned, like, "Why is the sky blue?" or "How come I have to wear boots when it's raining?". They _existed _as a single entity, and there was no point in questioning a fact.

It was often a testament to the strange sort of love that was born of seemingly petty, childish squabbles-squabbles that continued far into adulthood, and made everyone around them wonder. Certainly, Ron and Hermione were no Romeo and Juliet. They did not _immediately _fall in love-and there was no sudden, deep infatuation between them, for sure. She thought he was pig-headed and rude, and he thought she was a stuck-up nerd. But fate, or destiny-or just the fact that two people sharing a tent together are probably a bit closer than they would think-had brought these two together.

Often, when they did fight, it was about ridiculous things, like homework or where to visit first at Hogsmeade (Zonko's or Scrivenshaft's Quills?). As they grew older, the arguments became more serious, like if it was safe for Harry to remain holed up in his room-if anything drew them together, it was a shared concern for the idiot that was their best mate-or if Ron had any moral standing to be able to punch Viktor Krum in the nose.

Sometimes, the fights started with a simple sentence, such as: "I need to ask you a question."

….

"I need to ask you a question, Ron." Hermione Granger said, tapping her boyfriend's shoulder. The boy jumped, turning to look down at Hermione, who, at 1.7 metres, was practically childlike next to the 1.9 metres tall Ron. Hermione gave Ron a very serious look that would have put a twinge of fear in most people. In Ron, it positively frightened him-he knew her looks, and this was not a happy look.

The red-head had been sitting at the kitchen table in their shared flat, going over some new testing projects for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes when Hermione came through the front door, her face dark and grumbling about something to do with work.

"I need to ask you a question, Ronald." Hermione said again, sounding very grim, with her hands on her hips. Almost immediately, Ron began thinking of all the wrong things he might have done to upset her. Surely this wasn't because he had been late to dinner with her parents last week-she had said she was fine with it, if a little annoyed. And, she didn't yet know that he would be taking extra hours at the shop, since he'd been waiting to spring _that _one on her when she was a little happier. So, what had he done this time?

"Have I done something wrong, Hermione? You sound upset." He said, giving her a queasy smile. His skin had gone pale, his freckles popping under the light, and his palms sweating. No one but Hermione could do this to him-turning him into a blathering, self-conscious idiot who said all the wrong things and screwed up everything else.

"Did I say I was upset?" Hermione replied, and Ron was half-tempted to say _No, but you look it_. But, things like that fell under the category of 'blathering, self-conscious idiot', and so, he kept his mouth shut. "No, I'm not upset, per say. More…frustrated…"

"Frustrated?" Ron frowned, puzzled. Frustrated could sometimes end up being even worse than upset. Really, sometimes-most of the time-he honestly didn't understand women at all. Why couldn't they just explain what the meant, instead of hiding behind secretive phrases and little snarky questions?

"Yes. We haven't exactly been _communicating _much recently, and I've gotten a little annoyed by how often we don't say anything to each other. We're dating, Ron-we're meant to be talking to each other."

"We _do _talk, Hermione, all the time-"

"I mean _more _than just the casual 'hello' or 'good-bye' or 'how's your day been?'! I mean lengthy discussions about where we want to go in life, or what we want to do on the weekends, or maybe how work has been making you feel; because I've been kind of stressed recently, thank you for asking."

"Is that was this is about? Because your _job _is stressful?" Both of them had gone pink in the face now, and Ron's fists were clenched. Merlin, she _always _did this, complaining about her job, acting like it was somehow more important than his, or that he didn't _understand_, because he worked at a bloody joke shop. "What, like _I _don't spend hours every day, helping children with their products, or running around unpacking boxes, or testing new projects? Like what I do isn't nearly as stressful as yours?"

"I never said that, Ron-"

"You do this all the time, Hermione! You come home, whining about how _no one cares _or _they won't listen to me because I'm a girl _or whatever! You don't care about _my _life, you just want me to listen to _your _blathering, and pretend like my life is just fine!"

She looked properly frightened now, pulling away from him, as if she regretted having even started the conversation. All the anger had fled from her eyes, and she only looked confused. "Ron, you're being over-dramatic-"

"I am not!" he screamed, grabbing her wrist, and behind them, a vase from Hermione's mother shattered, causing Hermione to shriek. She pulled out of his grasp, giving him a shocked look. He opened his mouth to explain, but she only shook her head, moving towards the door.

"I'm sorry I even said anything, Ron." She said quietly, then slipped away. Ron was left standing by the table, unaware of having ever gotten up. He felt empty inside, like he always did when they fought, as if she had left with a part of him.

….

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I'm sorry about earlier-my little outburst."

"Yeah."

"I didn't mean to scare you."

"I know."

"I didn't mean any of it."

"I _know_, Ron."

"Listen-"

"Just forget it, Ronald. I don't want to deal with it anymore. Like I said, I'm sorry I ever even brought it up."

"Sorry."

"Would you stop saying you're sorry? It's not helping!"

"Can I ask you a question, Hermione?"

"Am _I _about to be in trouble?"

"Wha-? No. I just….I just wanted to know…how was work today?"


End file.
